


Camping Out

by giddytf2



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Animals, Camping, Everybody screams, Fluff, Geralt screams, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Loves Jaskier | Dandelion, Humor, Idiots at camping, Idiots in Love, In the making of this story, Jaskier screams, Jaskier | Dandelion Loves Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, M/M, POV Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Snickers chocolate ships them, no animals were harmed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-19
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-15 06:22:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29554863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/giddytf2/pseuds/giddytf2
Summary: Geralt didn't appreciate being awakened by a hard kick to his shin. He grunted and scowled in the semi-darkness of the tent. What the hell? What was Jaskier's problem this time?Before he could growl, Jaskier was clambering on top of him, crushing his breath out of his lungs.He let out a sound akin to a bear that just got punched in the gonads."Jaskier," he said, and he ignored that he still sounded like a bear that got punched in the gonads. "What the fuck?""I felt it on my leg! FELT IT!"________________________Geralt and Jaskier go on a camping trip alone after being dared to by their friends. After discovering Jaskier's tent is damaged, they share Geralt's tent--only forsomethingto crawl around in there and scare the bejesus out of them both.(Originally a Twitter fic at@giddytf2. Edited for easier reading here on AO3!)
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 9
Kudos: 125





	Camping Out

**Author's Note:**

> This short story was inspired by a prompt I came across on Twitter that simply said "camping AU". My brain instantly thought, "Hey, what if Jaskier and Geralt went camping alone because their pals dared them to do it so the two idiots in love will finally _get it_ , and made sure to sabotage Jaskier's tent so he's forced to share Geralt's bigger tent?"
> 
> And the following is the answer to that question:
> 
>   
> 

Geralt didn't appreciate being awakened by a hard kick to his shin. He grunted and scowled in the semi-darkness of the tent. What the hell? What was Jaskier's problem _this_ time?

Before he could growl, Jaskier was clambering on top of him, crushing his breath out of his lungs.

He let out a sound akin to a bear that just got punched in the gonads.

"Jaskier," he said, and he ignored that he still sounded like a bear that got punched in the gonads. "What the fuck?"

"I felt it on my leg! FELT IT!"

Jaskier was practically curled up in a ball on his torso.

If anyone else had done this, even Eskel, he would have shoved them off in a second. He hated when people touched him without permission, much less shoved their whole body onto him.

But the trembling man in his arms wasn't just anybody. The trembling, whimpering man was Jaskier.

Jaskier, who he'd loved for the last twenty years of their friendship. Jaskier, who he'd secretly been in love with for almost as long.

Jaskier, who was screeching in terror again and flailing his long limbs at—something.

"Jaskier! What the _fuck_ —"

"I FELT IT ON MY LEG!"

Without a thought, Geralt clasped Jaskier in his arms, tightly to his chest. Jaskier calmed down in an instant, his rapid breaths slowing down to hot, shaky ones that seared Geralt's bare chest.

Jaskier was so heavy. So warm.

Jaskier fitted perfectly in his embrace, to his body.

He growled, "Felt what?"

"Something—furry!" Jaskier squeaked. "And big! Very BIG!"

Geralt refrained from commenting he was holding something furry and very big right now. He huffed. His eyes crinkled in the dimness.

"Maybe you had a bad dream."

"No, I was having a _great_ one!"

Geralt refrained from asking if Jaskier was dreaming about him. That was too much to hope for, really—and he didn't want to lose his best friend if Jaskier didn't feel the same way about him.

"Look, why don't I—"

At that moment, _something_ scampered across his bare foot.

Something furry, and very, _very_ big.

The screech of fright that burst from his mouth caused Jaskier to screech as well. Still clasping Jaskier with one arm, he scrambled backwards as far as he could in the small tent, until he hit the tent wall. Jaskier clutched onto him. They huddled on their sides against the tent wall, their stubbly cheeks pressed together.

"See!" Jaskier squealed. "I _told_ you!"

Geralt drew in deep, deliberate breaths. Moonlight defined the vaguest shadows outside the tent. Inside, it was next to impossible to see anything.

But there was something inside the tent with them. Something furry and very, very big—that let out a piercing chitter so near to them.

Geralt slapped a hand over Jaskier's mouth before Jaskier could screech again. He was acutely aware of the soft plumpness of Jaskier's lips.

"Sshh!" He tightened his arm around Jaskier's waist. "I'm getting the torch."

He felt Jaskier nod. Their cheeks rubbed together, and he reveled in the mild scratch of their stubble.

"But where is it?" Jaskier whispered.

Geralt didn't know either. He had to blindly search for it.

He swallowed hard. Sucked in a breath. Extended his free arm into the semi-darkness.

He patted around for the small, plastic torch. If everything had stayed in place, including themselves, the torch would have been above Geralt's head. But now, it could be anywhere in the tent.

He swept his arm up in a semi-circle across the tent floor. No, that was a bedroll, and that was—Jaskier's balled-up t-shirt? And that was—

His hand landed on something warm. Something with dense fur that _moved_.

He felt no shame at the shriek that exploded from his mouth.

Jaskier shrieked even louder than he did, grabbing his upper arm and yanking his hand back to safety between their bare, hot torsos. The creature that was in the tent shrieked with them too, an awful noise akin to a tantrum-throwing brat whose scream volume control was broken.

Even as Jaskier continued shrieking, Geralt could feel his friend frantically searching for the torch with one hand. The other hand gripped his tight—and it quietened him, leaving Jaskier to compete with the creature for the most formidable lungs and highest pitch of voice.

Then the creature stopped shrieking.

Jaskier exclaimed, "Ah hah!"

The torch switched on with a blinding blast of gold light.

Geralt grunted. Scrunched his eyes shut. He opened them seconds later—and stared into big, black eyes surrounded by black fur, inches away from his face.

He and Jaskier and the creature screamed in unison. The unholy noise was deafening. Gods, this up-close, its sharp teeth were _huge_. He did _not_ want them in his face! He recoiled from it, his eyes wide, the back of his head pressed to the tent wall.

"Shoo! Get away from him!"

Jaskier waved the torch menacingly at the creature. With a squeal, it scampered away to a shadowed part of the tent. Geralt scrambled upright to a sitting position, then took the torch from Jaskier.

"Go, go," he said, pushing Jaskier towards the zipped tent door. "Get out."

The torch's beam lit Jaskier from below. In a horror movie, the lighting would have been used to emphasize a villain's wickedness. But to Geralt, Jaskier looked beautiful in that light anyway. Jaskier was always beautiful to him.

Jaskier's eyes and mouth were wide with outrage.

"I'm not leaving you with that—that _thing!_ "

Geralt could kiss him right now. He really could.

Instead, Geralt frowned at his silly friend and growled, “Would you rather be trapped in here with it?"

Jaskier huffed. "I'd rather be with you than be alone out there with who knows what!"

Geralt told his stupid heart to shut up and stop _hoping_ so much.

"Jaskier, open the door so the damn thing can leave!"

He swung the torch around the tent, his frown deepening at not seeing the furry creature in its light. Where was it hiding? How did it get in the tent at all?

Muttering under his breath, Jaskier obeyed him—for once. The _zrrp_ of the tent door's zip was almost as divine to Geralt's ears as Jaskier's singing was.

Moonlight cascaded into the tent through the rectangular opening.

Jaskier scrambled back to his side and huddled with him.

Four tense seconds tiptoed by in silence and stillness.

Then, in a burst of motion from a dark corner of the tent, the creature dashed out the opening to freedom. Jaskier gasped aloud and clung to Geralt's bicep. Geralt stared after the fleeing animal with a sagging lower jaw.

In the dark, when neither of them could see it, it had seemed so frightening. To see its fangs and hear it scream hadn't helped. In the light, knowing what it was, Geralt was torn between covering his face with a hand and laughing his arse off.

A raccoon.

It was just a raccoon.

A truly big, fat raccoon that had escaped from their tent with—something between its teeth. Or had he just imagined the brown, rectangular object in its mouth?

Jaskier was using the torch to inspect their backpacks: the raccoon had been hiding behind them.

"Oh no, it didn't."

Geralt's lips twitched.

"Jaskier."

"Oh no. No, no, no."

Geralt's lips tremored.

"Jaskier, what?"

He was totally prepared for the roar of pure outrage that erupted from Jaskier. He sat where he was, his shoulders shaking, as he watched Jaskier charge on all fours to the tent door.

There, framed by the opening, still on all fours, Jaskier stuck his head out and bellowed his indignation to the slumbering forest.

"YOU THIEVING SHIT! YOU TOOK MY LAST SNICKERS BAR! I WAS SAVING THAT, YOU MONSTROUS EMBODIMENT OF EVIL AND GREED!"

Jaskier pounded the ground with a fist.

And Geralt snapped.

He toppled over like a felled tree onto his side. His whole body shook as he laughed and laughed, his watering eyes squeezed shut and his cheeks aching from his intense mirth.

"Geralt!"

He laughed even harder as Jaskier aimed that dramatic indignation at him.

"Are you laughing at me, Geralt?! Is my heartfelt suffering your cheap entertainment?!"

He kicked weakly at the air as Jaskier pounced on him and smacked him on his upper arm and chest with both hands. The smacks didn't hurt at all—Jaskier was grinning as blatantly as he was.

"You—you're—" He gasped for air. "You're not you, Jaskier—when you're—hungry!"

The only reason he even knew the popular chocolate's motto was because Jaskier had told him about it. Blurting it out now did exactly what he'd hoped it would: Jaskier's mirth overwhelmed him.

With a burst of sweet laughter, Jaskier collapsed on top of him. He rolled fully onto his back, gladly bearing Jaskier's weight, basking in Jaskier's soothing heat, Jaskier's soft smile.

"Oh," Jaskier murmured, gazing down at him with crinkled eyes. "And what will satisfy me?"

Geralt could have said a thousand other things, like "singing", "composing songs", "stylish clothes", or "buying a mega-pack of Snickers on sale".

Instead, he finally said the truth, in a single tender word.

"Me," he rasped, before his anxious mind could stop his hopeful heart.

Jaskier's affectionate expression remained. Jaskier's pretty blue eyes remained crinkled with mirth. With love.

A love that had always been reflecting his own.

"Haven't you figured it out yet?" Jaskier murmured with that mellifluous voice. "I'm never hungry when I'm with you."

Geralt could blame the ache in his chest, the lump in his throat on all that laughing. He could blame the blood rushing through his ears, his hammering heart on that rascally raccoon.

But he didn't.

He didn't have to hide, anymore.

He'd made his dash for freedom—and won it.

"Bet you love chocolate more than me," he rasped, and he knew it was a saccharine lie.

Jaskier raised a shapely eyebrow at him. Tucked his loose, white hair behind his ear with a gentleness that had always been there, that he simply hadn't dared to see, even in the golden light of day.

"I'm not out there chasing that gormandizing, roly-poly crook of a fart-beast, am I?"

Geralt's lips tremored. So did Jaskier's.

"No," Geralt murmured, blooming into a sun-bright smile as he drew Jaskier's head down for the first of a million kisses to come, "you aren't."

**FIN**

**Author's Note:**

> This story was also brought to you by the awesomeness that is Snickers:
> 
>   
> 


End file.
